


Love Like It Was a Drug

by CausticCouture



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Hartmon, M/M, Painkillers, brian fallon - Freeform, one shots, vibed piper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6296542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CausticCouture/pseuds/CausticCouture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of Hartmon one shots based on the Brian Fallon album "Painkillers."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> Because personal statements/research statements/GRE prep are important. But Hartmon is important-er.

_And all I could do is take you from the circus show_  
_So come on give me something, come on keep me up all night_

The accelerator was going to blow. Which sucked. And ordinarily, he wouldn't mind; he had nothing left in the 100 or so mile radius that would be affected. He could get out of town in a heartbeat, start working at a new company tomorrow, ages before the accelerator was supposed to be online.

But instead, here he was, sitting at his desk into the wee hours of the morning, trying to fix the problem, last night (two nights ago?) still aching in his head.

_"What would you say if we just... up and ran? Got out of here? Started everything over somewhere else?"_

_"What?"_

_"Just... left. Started living somewhere else, where I wasn't the disgraced, disowned Rathaway heir and you weren't 'that sordid boy he took up with.'"_

_"Babe, no. I think that would happen no matter where we went. I like it here anyway."_

_"Okay. If you like it here, we'll stay._ "

It wasn't all about him anymore. And he would do whatever it took to keep Cisco safe, to keep him happy. And if that meant falling asleep at his desk, waking up to the largest size of his favorite coffee and a piece of pan dulce from Cisco's favorite bakery, well, then it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Not the best thing I've ever written, but I had an idea in my head and needed to write it down before I lost it.  
> 2\. If you haven't, listen to "Painkillers." Brian Fallon is one of the most magnificent artists I've ever heard.  
> 3\. I'm making an effort to update somewhat regularly; I like Hartmon, but I also like how "Dr. CausticCouture" sounds. Well, I mean, sub in my actual name for CausticCouture, but... y'get it.  
> 4\. Most, if not all, of my other works/things I've been drafting are on halt as of right now. Again, grad school applications are kinda eating up a lot of my time. Kids, never be a STEM major. And never decide you want an advanced degree in STEM. Even if Dr. Your-name-here does have a certain ring to it.  
> 5\. Did you miss me? I missed you.


	2. Painkillers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you guessed "less than 12 hours" in the unofficial "When will someone post something Hartmon-y after 'Flash Back'" poll, you win... Hartmon. But it's angsty and one-sided, SO THERE!  
> ...I didn't just stick my tongue out. I am a mature adult.

_And we want love like it was a drug_  
_All we wanted was a little relief_  
_And every heart I held in between_  
_They were painkillers to me_

People were made to be used. His father went through employees; he was on his seventh or eight CFO in the past two years, never kept a secretary for more than a month, and accountants came and went with tax season. His mother was the same with household help; he spoke so many languages from having so many nannies, housekeepers, maids, cooks, butlers, the list went on to the point that _Downton Abbey_ would find it ridiculous. He was lucky he was an only child; if he had any siblings, well, surely mommy and daddy's affections would shift ever so often.

He chose to go through lovers. Maybe he craved affection, but he knew better than to seek it. The longest relationship he had ever had was for six months, right before he came out, right before he was disowned. After that, well, he couldn't take any chances. Any cravings for emotional intimacy were silenced, replaced. It was all one night stands, occasional fuck buddies for no more than a month. He even hit the point where he would use burner phones, just in case someone got attached. Attachment was what got him all of this in the first place.

And so maybe he was a little icy when puppy dog eyes and a "Han Shot First" shirt walked into Harrison's office. Cisco was by all regards brilliant; Hartley had looked at his resume. He had advised Harrison on the hire. "Brilliant, but immature," he had said. "We'll get him a mentor," Harrison replied, and he knew it was a done deal. Francisco Ramon was going to be the newest STAR Labs employee. If he had seen a picture, well... he would have personally ensured that Cisco would have gotten an entirely different type of call.

Ultimately, he understood there was a risk of attachment. He couldn't have that. He couldn't just lose everything again, not when he was rising up so quickly. He was Icarus, and Cisco was the sun. Fortunately, he knew better. He wasn't going to get caught up in some sad love story again. And if that meant being colder than absolute zero, than so be it. In a sick way, he almost relished Cisco's distaste; bad attention was better than no attention. But if was still something he needed to get rid of.

And if it took another week's rotation of going out every night, coming home with someone new every night, always someone with long, dark hair and brown eyes, never knowing their names and sometimes shouting what was definitely the wrong one, than so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Guys, so I can't tell you how much I love this song, specifically this refrain. One, I'm actually doing research on pain mechanisms right now, so Brian Fallon is speaking to my heart, two, I'm just happy he's doing stuff again, three, it's kinda the unofficial sequel to "Get Hurt" (like, who follows an album called "Get Hurt" with one called "Painkillers"? BRAIN. MOTHERLOVING. FALLON, THAT'S WHO. FRIGGIN GENIUS.), four, gah. Just all the emotion I can possibly not describe in that word. Gah. Tangent over.  
> 2\. Man, I'm inspired, I'm in a good mood, I'm mad at a lot of people right now (no, not you, never you), I'm happy with the latest draft of my personal statement, and this is what happens. Like, this gets published and I have another few drafted/outlined. Damn guys, I'm in my zone.


	3. Among Other Foolish Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to think this is on whichever Earth the Particle Accelerator didn't explode and everything worked out.

_And I don't mind the nights and the low light_  
_We spin 'round like records in the apartment_

"There isn't going to be a better view in town."

Cisco stared out their windows. "Y'know, I thought the floor-to-ceiling glass thing was going to be ridiculous, but you're right, I think the Particle Accelerator is going to make it worth it."

Hartley grinned, and took two glasses of champagne off the counter. "That too, but it wasn't the view I was talking about," he said, embracing his boyfriend from behind. He kissed the back of Cisco's head and handed him a glass.

"Stop it," Cisco said, blushing. "Kinda sucks that we weren't invited, though."

Hartley shook his head. "Skeleton crew. Dr. Wells wanted to keep everything to the bare minimum, in case something did go wrong. He's even insisting the media keep at a safe distance."

"But you caught the damn thing, surely, you'd be..." Hartley hushed Cisco with a chaste kiss.

"Lauded when everything goes as planned." He grinned. "Here, I know something they definitely won't have there." He picked up a remote, and within seconds, music was playing. Hartley offered Cisco his hand.

They didn't actually see the accelerator go online. They didn't see everything go perfectly. They didn't see their years of hard work finally come to fruition. The only thing they saw that night was each other.

And that was the only thing that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Difficult song+difficult week=Not my best work. I dunno. The song just... didn't mesh well with the pairing, but I had committed, and I'm not one to give up two chapters in *kicks that longer work that I had started working on but never got around to finishing under the rug* I even came up with a better idea, after everything was written, but man, I didn't want to rehash everything and keep y'all waiting. Sorry?  
> But no matter. I had a rough week, so you get fluff. As opposed to the times where I have a rough week and you get angst. Hm. There's probably a medium between the two that I don't want to figure out experimentally.


	4. Smoke

_And nobody else can see it_   
_But there’s something underneath my skin_   
_And I wish I could tell you_   
_I had the worst little dream_

He was killing Barry. Trying to take revenge on Wells by killing The Flash. He had concocted these ridiculous contraptions, gloves that projected different frequencies. And he was aiming the highest at Barry. It didn't matter that he didn't know he was killing Barry; Hartley didn't care. He wanted his revenge, and he was going to take it out in whatever way he had to.

The frequencies were high, inaudibly high. But Barry's ears were bleeding; if Hartley had his way, soon Barry's grey matter would undergo a similar fate. The city would see The Flash die, and Cisco would lose one of his best friends. The frequencies were starting to come in over the comm; Cisco knew he should turn it off before he was affected, but he couldn't just leave Barry like that.

This couldn't be happening. Cisco knew this couldn't be happening, shouldn't be happening, but there it was, unfolding before him, and he was powerless to stop it.

Cisco awoke with a start.

"What is it babe?"

He felt an arm reach over to comfort him. Hartley. Of course. His Hartley. Sleeping right next to him. Not a vengeful bone in his body. Other than that time he tried to destroy his parent's empire, but he would never kill anyone, least of all Barry. Not when he had done so much to save his life.

"Nothing. Just a bad dream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've hit the max point of studying for finals. Propanolol is either a Pokemon or an IV anesthetic; I'm no longer certain which and at this point I've heard too many of my neuropharm professor's opinions on politics to care. IF I WANTED TO HEAR SOMEONE BITCH ABOUT LEGAL DRUG ENFORCEMENT I WOULD HAVE TAKEN A GOVERNMENT COURSE GODDAMMIT.  
> *Ahem*  
> I mean thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
